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Authors: S. W. Frank

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“I think she just love this groovy little thing we got going. And it’ll last as our hearts still beating!”
She shrieked in song.

They laughed when the song ended, by then
they arrived at the dock and
Alfonzo
tied the boat.

Soon they were hand in hand strolling
along
the island famous for the howling monkey
.
Alfonzo didn’t have the heart to tell her, she’d likely find perhaps two in Peru, or
an animal refuge in
the Amazon
but none here
. They walked the sandy beach and sat
to talk, not about business or problems, but life and their goals for the children
.
In this quiet time, he found a lost part of him
self
. The inner part of
a
kid who truly wanted to do good, yet somehow it slipped away. There were moments with her and the children the goodness returned but it never lasted long. Once he assumed the role of Capo de tutti, goodness fled.

She wiggled her toes in the sand and hugged her knees. “I just want our children to know they’re loved.
One day, they’re going to get the negative version of
us
from someone,” she shook her head saddened
just t
hinking about it, “but if they know their parents were always good to them, maybe they won’t judge us too harshly.”

“We want the same things, nena.” He scooped a handful of sand and opened his fingers. It poured back to the beach. They were specks on the shore, encapsulated with
in
an
invisible enclosure, as part of
life’s
hourglass.
His eyes absorbed the waters azul shimmer. An ocean of love is what he felt for Selange. He prayed for an ocean of time to spend with her, but there were naggings at his gut and chest
. The sand in the hourglass warned he was running out of time.

“What are you thinking about Alfonzo?”

He exhaled, twisting in her direction. See, she knew him, knew when to jump inside his head and lasso him out. His cowgirl honey
wanted to
save her cowboy. “
How I’d like
forever with you.”


Let’s simply appreciate every minute together
and let them add up to the
forevers
.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“No plan, those always fall through.”

There was the Alfonzo signature grin. “Somebody’s grown into a wise old woman.”

“Old
is such a compliment. It’s survived when others have not.”
She
suddenly leaped on him and they toppled to the sand. “My King, can I kiss you
?

“Hell yeah!”

The rest of the day they island hopp
ed
. They ate at a shack of a restaurant on Dracos
trekking around and talking to one of only four residents of the island. They were offered
a homegrown sample of the woman
’s
Noni
juice
and Selange was told by the native the howling monkey had become virtually extinct
.
Alfonzo downed
the antioxidant
,
Selange held her breath and followed suit, but later confided as they walked the beach it was the nastiest thing she tasted in
her life
and she’d rather drink her own piss
.

“Have you
drunk
piss before?” He enquired.

“No, but it has to taste better than that.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know. It was good to me.”

“That’s because you have an iron stomach.”

“I had to acquire one when you were learning how to cook and I was the guinea pig or else I’ll be dead.”

She pinched his arm. “That’s mean.”

“It’s the truth, but you’ve gotten better.” He laughed.

The day was leisurely, a nice affirmation of
love and unity.
Once
they returned to the villa, it was Selange who crashed in bed fully clothed. Alfonzo broke the rule
not to
call home
. But, hell he missed his kids and his wife did,
too. Besides, she’d broken the rule first. Yeah, he saw when she snuck to the bathroom in that restaurant with an anxious expression. It wasn’t the look of a woman wanting to take a dump, either. She missed her children and was phoning home like E.T.

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY

 

 

 

A soft pillow cushioned
his head and a stiff white hospital sheet covered him as if he were dead. After yesterday’s embarrassing display of weakness he found himself scowling a lot
.
Thank the saints her car
remained operable after the bad weather. T
he navigational system
directed the driver to the hospital and during the ride, Giuseppe experienced intense anxiety. Witnessing childbirth and seeing what he may have created bundled in Shanda’s arms gave him
palpitations. What if’s were the conversat
ions he had with himself and the fear stemmed from the unknown.

They were in this dull hospital room
with walls a
fad
ed
color of lime
.

The baby was fine, a healthy baby boy, who weighed
not quite
six pounds
despite
his
premature
entrance into the world
. The
potential father
was
drained of blood to determine paternity upon
Shanda’s
request
.
She wanted to prove he was the father before she gave the baby a name.
The wait for the results had him in a state of panic because the infant was the cutest ever, very pale though with
what Giuseppe called a baby
grin
.

When he thought the stress of delivery ended, he was thrown another turn. During the night Shanda began to bleed
profusely.
It was an endless colorful flow as if she’d been shot in the pussy.

The night nurse
and physician rushed in the room at Giuseppe’s cry. He watched in a heightened panic praying fervently Shanda did not die.
The nurse worked with urgency; she started an IV to give an intravenous oxytocin as the doctor massaged Shanda’s uterus to
help it contract
. She was then
catheterized to make sure
her
bladder
was
empty
. This took minutes but to a frightened and helpless Giuseppe it was too long.

Whatever medication they gave did not stem the tide and the compression to her uterus failed.
The doctor
spoke to the nurse and plans to transport Shanda to the operating room were made.
The nurse mentioned PPH and he had no idea what it meant until he grabbed her arm and asked her to speak English. “She
has a post-partum hemorrhage and the doctor is trying to stop it.”

This
emergency crisis recently happened
and
ever
since
he'd become
a nervous wreck. He bolt upright on the pleather little couch
beside
the window and
his
heavy feet contacted with the floor.
The sun failed to wake, which told him morning had yet to come. Shanda remained in the
OR;
the D and C only slightly slowed the bleeding. The doctor spoke to him about a possible blood transfusion, and he then added, “We will monitor her vitals overnight and if they’re unstable we need to do an emergency transfusion.”

Worried and anxious Giuseppe trotted to the patient bathroom to splash cold water on his face and
use
the
cheap
oral
products provided to clean his teeth. He gargled with the complimentary mouthwash and
spit foam into the sink. In the mirror he saw himself, unkempt, unshaven and heavy eyes rimmed with shadow.
The tight white t-shirt purchased from the gift shop clung to his muscular chest, unable to disguise the chiseled c
ontours
.

Giuseppe grumbled, rolled his head and tossed self-pity to the floor.
He must do something for the girl. She had family and they should know her plight he decided. First, he called Alfonzo to tell him the situation. He heard
Selange’s voice shrieking when told and Giuseppe bowed his head miserably. “Have Selange call the family
fratellino;
ask her to do this immediately.”

“Yes, Geo she’
s making the call
and we’
ll be there soon.

“Grazi fratellino. I do not know what to do.”

“Focus on the baby Giuseppe.
Begin there.”


Sí.”

When Giuseppe got off the phone with his brother, he
squared his shoulders
.
“You are Giuseppe Dichenzo. Get hold of yourself!” 

He
walked with confidence to the hall, ordered
his guard
to fetch
coffee before stopping at the
nurse’s station to
e
nquire about the test results.

The
nurse flittered nervously around, searching for a document.
The tall Italian with those gorgeous eyes the nurses whispered
about
stood right in front of her. They said he was someone important, why else the personal security outside the patient’s door. His name was Giuseppe Dichenzo. She researched it on the internet. The articles and pictures
on
display said he was the leader of organized crime
, but there was not a mention of a wife. Perhaps, they were married on the
island;
many came here to exchange nuptials
.
She figured the
patient;
Shanda Dichenzo must truly love the brooding foreigner
because Giuseppe
Dichenzo was a notoriously dangerous man.

“Un momento
.
” She put the mother’s name in the computer and read the results. She didn’t have the authority to divulge the information without the doctor’s approval
.
“The doctor will
talk to you about the test results
.”

“What is there to talk
about?

Giuseppe walked around the privacy
counter.
His impatience trumped civility as he pushed the woman aside.
“Sir, you cannot be in this area
,” from the nurse fell on deaf ears.

Giuseppe crouched down
, holding the back of the talking woman’s rolling chair. He let her speak but heard nothing she said as he read the
screen.
Shanda’s blood type was B
, O
. Giuseppe knew he was A
, O
. The bambino had type O.

“Sir, the doctor will explain what the test results mean.”

Giuseppe examined the nurse sideways. Did she believe every person without a medical degree was a simpleton?
He passed biology with A’s despite his current profession. He knew exactly what the possibilities were.
In order for a baby to have O type blood, the
f
ather must have A
, O
and the mother B
, O
. There’s a twenty-five percent chance of getting the O type blood because there are four possible outcome: A
, O
B
, O
A
, B
and O
, O
. If
a
baby does get the O,O result then it will have O blood.

Giuseppe rose, “I am aware of what this means.”

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

 

 

 

Sergio walked beside his uncle
in silence
. Nico wasn’t the small talk guy. He asked questions, you answered, otherwise keep quiet. They were heading to
another
one of Chip’s spots in
Sheepshead Bay
,
after leaving Canarsie. This was
a place Sergio preferred not to be seen. He tried to tell Nico on the plane ride, this wasn’t such a good idea. However, Nico ignored him, leaned his head back and fell asleep. Sergio got the hint then and found other forms of distraction by way of a girlie magazine.

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